They lost no time in visiting the docks and the shipping offices. There they learned that nothing had been heard of the Emma Brower since the vessel had left Jacksonville.
“We must have passed her on the way!” cried Dave, to Captain Sanders. “Could we do that?”
“Perhaps, since we only had half a cargo, Dave. Besides, maybe that vessel was damaged by the storm.”
“I wonder how soon she will get in?” mused Roger.
At this the captain shrugged his shoulders.
“It is impossible to say. I’ve known a ship to be a week and sometimes nearly a month overdue. And I’ve known a ship to drop out altogether,” he added, soberly.
“Oh, don’t say you think she has gone down!” cried Dave, in alarm.
“Let us hope not, Dave.”
The day passed, and also the next and the next. The cargo of the Golden Eagle was unloaded, and the Englishmen, who had been passengers, left for parts unknown. As each day slipped by, Dave grew more serious. What if the Emma Brower had gone down, carrying Merwell, Jasniff, and the Carwith jewels with her?
CHAPTER XX—LANDING ON CAVE ISLAND
At the end of a week Dave was more worried than ever. Each day he and his chums went down to the shipping offices and each day returned to the hotel disappointed. Not a word had been heard concerning the missing vessel and those on board.
The Golden Eagle was all ready to sail on her return trip to the United States, but Phil told Captain Sanders to wait.
“Perhaps we’ll hear to-day,” he said, and this was repeated day after day.
It was very warm and the boys were glad they had brought along some thin clothing. They scarcely knew what to do with themselves, and Dave was particularly sober.
“I suppose Mr. Wadsworth and the rest are waiting to hear from me,” he said to his chums. “But what is the use of sending a message when I haven’t anything to say?”
Another Sunday passed, and on Monday the boys visited the Golden Eagle, and then went with Captain Sanders to the nearest shipping office.
“Something is going on!” cried the senator’s son, as he noticed an unusual crowd congregated. “Must be news of some sort.”
“Let us find out what it is!” returned our hero, quickly.
“The Emma Brower has been heard from,” said a man, standing near. “That’s the vessel that was missing, don’t you know,” he added.
“What of her?” asked Dave.
“Went down in that terrible storm we had about ten days ago.”
“Down!” gasped all of the boys, while Captain Sanders looked the concern he felt.
“So they say. I do not know the particulars,” went on the man as he walked away.
It did not take the boys and the captain long to get into the shipping office and there they learned as many of the particulars as were known. A tramp steamer from Porto Rico had come in bringing word that she had sighted portions of a wreck while out at sea, and an investigation proved the same to belong to the Emma Brower. A portion of a small boat had been picked up, but nothing had been seen of sailors or passengers.
“Where was this?” questioned Dave, when he could get the chance.
“The captain of the steamer says about two miles west of Cave Island.”
“Cave Island!” cried Phil. “Why, that is where those Englishmen were going to hunt for that pirates’ treasure.”
“Two miles from Cave Island,” mused our hero. “If the Emma Brower went down, perhaps those in some of the small boats got to that place.”
“Perhaps,” answered Captain Sanders.
The boys and the captain remained at the shipping office for an hour, getting all the details possible concerning the wreck, including the exact latitude and longitude where the vessel was supposed to have gone down.
“Let us sail for that spot and see if we can discover anything,” suggested Dave, as the party came away. “We may find some of those in the small boats.”
“Just what I was going to suggest,” said Phil.
“Well, it’s up to you, Phil, to say what we shall do,” answered Captain Sanders. “Your father sent me word that I was to look to you for orders—that is, within reasonable limits,—and I know you won’t be unreasonable.”
“Well, we want to get back to the United States, anyway,” said Roger. “And this would be on our way.”
“How soon can you get ready for the trip?” asked our hero, of the master of the Golden Eagle.
“We are all provisioned, so it won’t take but a few hours,” was the reply.
“Then let us sail to-day.”
“You don’t want to wait for more word?” asked Roger.
“No, Roger; I don’t think it will do any good,” answered our hero.
The matter was discussed at the hotel, and a little later the boys paid their bill and had their baggage taken to the ship. In the meantime Captain Sanders had prepared for the trip, and two hours later the Golden Eagle was moving out of the harbor of Bridgetown.
“How long will it take us to run to that spot where they think the ship went down?” asked Phil.
“Not more than a day and a half—it depends somewhat on the wind,” answered Captain Sanders.
The boys tried to settle themselves, but this was impossible. Dave could not keep still, and paced the deck by the hour, or scanned the bosom of the ocean with the marine glasses Captain Sanders loaned him.
Only once came a thrill of excitement. A bit of wreckage was sighted and the ship sailed toward it. It was a yardarm, and to it were lashed a cask and several boxes, one of the latter bearing the name Emma Brower. Not a sign of a human being could be seen.
“If a man was on that wreckage the storm tore him loose,” said Captain Sanders.
“How terrible!” whispered Roger.
“And think of it, it may have been Merwell, or Jasniff, or both of them!” returned Phil.
On the following day they reached the latitude and longitude as given by the captain of the tramp steamer. In that vicinity they saw some smaller wreckage, but nothing of importance.
“Cave Island is two miles east of here,” said Captain Sanders.
“Any other islands around?” asked Dave.
“Nothing within fifteen or twenty miles.”
“Then, if the crew and passengers took to the small boats, wouldn’t they be likely to steer for Cave Island?”
“I think so,—that is, if the storm let ’em do so. It might be the wind would force ’em the other way. But I think it would be a wise move to sail for Cave Island and take a look around. The one trouble is, so I learned at Barbados, the island hasn’t any sort of harbor. We’ll have to lay-to outside and go ashore in a small boat.”
“Perhaps it won’t be necessary to go ashore,” said Roger.
“Oh, it can be done easily enough.”
The bow of the Golden Eagle was turned eastward. They ran slowly, all hands keeping their eyes open for more signs of the wreck.
Presently they came in sight of the reef outside of Cave Island. It formed a large horseshoe, and beyond was the island itself, long, low, and irregular, the shore fringed with tropical trees and bushes and the center rocky and barren.
“This ain’t no easy place to land,” said Billy Dill to Dave, as the sails were lowered and the ship was brought about. “If them critters from the wreck got here in their small boats in the dark they must have had a fierce time o’ it!”
“I don’t see a sign of a boat anywhere,” said Dave, as he swept the reef and the shore with the glasses. “And not a sign of a human being either,” he added, with a sinking heart.
“That’s queer, too, lad, if they came here. Fust thing I’d think about, if I was wrecked, would be to put up a signal o’ distress.”
It was growing dark, yet Dave and his chums were anxious to go ashore, to see if they could discover anything concerning those who had been wrecked, so Captain Sanders ordered out the largest of the small boats.
“I’ll go with you,” he said. “And we can take Billy Dill and Smiley.”
“We had better take some things along—in case we remain ashore all night,” said Dave.
“To be sure. And we’ll go armed, lad—no telling what may turn up.”
“Any wild animals here?” questioned the senator’s son.
“I don’t know, but I don’t think so—that is, not large ones. You’ll find rabbits maybe, and any number of birds.”
Soon the small boat was ready to go ashore. Billy Dill and the other sailor, Smiley, were at the oars, while Captain Sanders was in the stern, to steer and give directions.
“If it starts to blow better move off a bit,” said the captain to the mate. “No use in taking chances around these reefs.”
“I’ll watch out,” was the answer. “I know just what a blow down here means, and I’ll keep her off.”
“Do you think we’ll have another storm?” asked Dave.
“Can’t tell about that, lad. Sometimes a storm comes up pretty quick in these parts.”
Soon the small boat was close to the breakers. The water boiled and foamed on every side, and it must be confessed that Roger was somewhat scared. Dave and Phil did not mind, although wishing it was over.
“To starboard, hard!” shouted the captain, when the first of the breakers was encountered. “Now ease off, lads! Lively now, and hard! Starboard again! Keep it up! There, straight ahead! Bend to it, bend I tell you! A little more to starboard—not too much! There, now we are out of it!” And in a moment more the small boat was out of the breakers and riding into a tiny cove, where there was a stretch of sand, dotted with palms. The two sailors were all but exhausted and glad enough to rest up and allow the boat to drift ashore.
“So this is Cave Island?” remarked Dave, as he hopped out on the sand, followed by his chums. “Well, it doesn’t look much different from the other islands in this portion of the globe.”
After everybody had alighted, the small boat was pulled up on the sand and tied to a palm tree.
“What’s to do next?” asked the shipowner’s son, as he looked inquiringly at Dave. “This is your expedition, Dave.”
“How big around do you suppose this island is, Captain?” asked our hero.
“Four or five miles at least.”
“Then we could walk completely around it in a couple of hours, that is, if we found it wasn’t too rough in spots.”
“You won’t find it smooth like this all around, lad.”
“Some of us might walk in one direction and some in the other,” suggested Roger. “Then, if either party discovered anything, it could signal to the other by firing a pistol or a gun.” For both sorts of weapons had been brought along.
“Whatever you wish to do to-day must be done quickly,” said Captain Sanders. “It will soon be night, and, as you know, darkness comes on quickly in this part of the world.”
The matter was discussed for a few minutes, and then it was decided to leave the sailors in charge of the boat, while Captain Sanders and Phil walked up the shore and Dave and Roger traveled in the opposite direction.
For fully a quarter of a mile Dave and the senator’s son found it an easy matter to push along, for the sandy shore was smooth and offered no barrier to their advance. But then they came to a series of rocks, jutting out into the ocean, and here progress was more difficult.
“We’ll not get around this island to-night,” remarked the senator’s son, after climbing over a particularly sharp line of rocks. “This takes a fellow’s wind.”
“Look!” cried our hero, as he pointed to a spot between the rocks. “What do you make that out to be, Roger?”
“It’s the wreck of a rowboat!” cried the other.
“Just what I thought. Let us go down and look it over.”
With care, so as not to sprain an ankle, the two chums climbed down to the split in the rocks. By this time it was growing dark, and in the hollow they could not see clearly.
It was the remains of a rowboat which they had discovered. The small craft was split from end to end, so as to be utterly useless. Near it lay a broken oar and a broken-open box that had contained provisions of some sort.
“That boat is from the Emma Brower!” cried Dave, after an investigation. “And that proves that some of the people from the wrecked ship came to this island!”
“Yes, but are they alive, Dave, or were they drowned?” questioned Roger.
“That remains to be found out, Roger. I sincerely hope they are alive.”
CHAPTER XXI—INTO A CAVE AND OUT
“Let us look around for footprints, Roger,” said Dave, as the pair scrambled up the rocks once more. “If any persons landed from that smashed rowboat they’d have to walk in some direction, and the ground is soft back of here.”
“The trouble is, it is growing so dark,” returned the senator’s son. “In a little while we won’t be able to find our way back. We should have brought a lantern along.”
“I’ve got something almost as good,” answered our hero, and took from his pocket a little electric flashlight—one of the kind that emits a tiny flash of light when the button at the end is pressed.
“Good enough! That’s first-rate!”
The pair were soon down from the rocks. Under the palm trees it was now dark, and Dave used the electric flashlight to advantage.
“Here are footprints!” he cried, presently. “Six pairs! That shows that at least a half dozen persons came ashore in that boat. Those six may have been carrying others.”
“I don’t know, Roger. If Merwell and Jasniff were around I’d like to surprise them. If they discovered us first, and they had the jewels, they’d surely hide the gems and then say they didn’t have them.”
“I believe that, Dave. Well, let us follow the footsteps and see where they lead to.”
“Another thing. Do you remember those Englishmen? They may be on this island, and if so, I’d rather steer clear of them.”
“So would I, they were so disagreeable—all but that one chap, Borden.”
The trail led among the palm trees and then up a rise of ground where grew a number of bushes. Here the boys had to proceed more slowly, for fear of missing the way.
“It’s queer that they should call this spot Cave Island,” observed the senator’s son. “We haven’t seen anything that looks like a cave.”
“The caves may be on the other side of the island,” answered Dave. “Look out, Roger, there is a split in the rocks! Let us jump over to yonder bushes.”
Dave placed the flashlight in his pocket and made the leap he had mentioned, and his chum came after him.
A most astonishing thing followed. The bushes where they landed gave way, and down they rolled on some smooth rocks. They tried to stay their progress, but this was impossible, and they continued to roll for several minutes. Then Dave bumped into some sort of barrier and Roger landed beside him.
“For gracious sake, what’s this?” gasped Roger, when he felt able to speak. The breath had been all but knocked out of him.
“I guess we have found one of the caves,” answered Dave, grimly. “Phew, but that was some roll, wasn’t it!”
“We must be down near the center of the earth,” murmured the senator’s son.
“Not quite as bad as that. But we came down some distance, I admit.”
“Flash that light around, Dave, and let us see where we are.”
“I will if the light hasn’t been smashed,” replied our hero. “I rolled over it half a dozen times.”
He brought out the little flashlight and tried it. Fortunately, it was still in working order. As the rays fell around the lads, they stared at each other, blankly.
“What do you make of this, Dave?”
“Looks as if it was cut out of the solid rock, Roger.”
“It certainly is some cave. Wonder where it leads to?”
“We might follow the opening and find out.”
“Excuse me, I’d rather climb out the way we came in.”
“It certainly doesn’t look very inviting.”
The two boys found themselves in an irregular opening of the rocks, fifty feet wide and perhaps twice that in length. On one side was the smooth slope down which they had come; on the other a dark hole that looked as if it might lead to some bottomless pit. A jagged rock in the center of the underground chamber had been the means of stopping them from dropping to the unknown depths below them.
“We were lucky to hit this rock,” said Dave, with something like a shiver. “If we hadn’t——” He did not finish.
“Let us get out. It gives me the creeps to stay here,” returned his chum.
“All right, Roger, I’m willing. But it is going to be hard work crawling back, those rocks are so smooth.”
“We’ve got to get back!”
“I can’t hold the light and climb too. And if I place it on the rocks it may roll away and go down into that hole,” went on our hero.
“Oh, put it in your pocket again and we’ll try to climb back in the dark. We know the direction.”
Dave did as his chum suggested, and then commenced a climb that neither of the lads ever forgot. The rocks were so smooth in spots that at times to get a foothold was next to impossible. Once Roger slid back several feet and would have gone to the bottom had not Dave caught and held him.
“Take it slowly, Roger,” was our hero’s advice. “If you go to the bottom, you may be killed!”
“I’ll hang—on!” gasped the other. “But I wi-wish I was out—of—th-this!”
“Well, I wish the same.”
It took fully a quarter of an hour longer to get out of the rocky cave, and when the boys reached the surface of the earth they were so exhausted they could do little but sit on the ground and pant for breath.
“It’s Cave Island right enough,” was the comment of the senator’s son. “But excuse me from tumbling into any more such openings!”
“I guess the best thing we can do is to go back to the boat,” said Dave. “We can’t discover much in this darkness. We can start out again early in the morning.”
“All right, back to the boat it is,” and the pair set out on the return along the sandy shore.
“I see a light!” cried Dave, after about half the distance to where the rowboat had been left was covered. And he pointed to a spot inland, among the trees.
“Maybe it’s a camp of some sort,” replied Roger. “It seems to be quite a distance away.”
“Shall we go and see what it is?”
“Hadn’t we better get the others first, Dave?”
“All right, if you think best.”
So they continued on the way to where the rowboat had been left. They came up to find that Captain Sanders and Phil had not yet returned. Smiley was snoring on the sand, while Billy Dill sat near by on guard.
“Find anybody?” queried the old tar, eagerly.
“We found one of the caves, and we saw a light at a distance,” answered Dave. “We want to investigate that light, as soon as the others get back.”
Dave and Roger sat down, to rest and to wait, and thus another half-hour went by. With nothing else to do, Billy Dill took a nap, and the boys allowed the old sailor to slumber on.
“It’s queer the captain and Phil don’t return,” remarked Roger, presently. “They must have gone much further than we did.”
“Maybe they fell into one of those caves, Roger.”
“Oh, I trust not!”
Another half-hour went by and still the others did not put in an appearance. By this time Dave was getting worried.
“Let us take a walk along the shore and look for them,” he said, and Roger agreed, and they started off.
They had covered less than a quarter of a mile when they came in sight of a campfire, well-hidden between the rough rocks back from the water’s edge. Around the campfire were huddled the forms of several men, evidently sailors.
“Perhaps those men are from the Emma Brower,” said Dave, in a low tone.
“I don’t see anything of Captain Sanders and Phil,” remarked the senator’s son.
“No. And yet they must have seen this campfire, if they came this way. What can it mean, Dave?”
“I don’t know.”
“Shall we go up to the campfire and talk to those fellows?”
“I don’t see why not. I am not afraid of them.”
“Do you see anybody that looks like Jasniff or Merwell?”
“No, those fellows are all plain sailors, by their outfits.”
Dave continued to advance and Roger followed, and neither halted until he was within the glow of the campfire. Then Dave called out:
“Hello, messmates!”
At this cry the four sailors around the fire sprang to their feet. At a glance Dave and Roger saw that they were in tatters, and that they looked hungry and careworn.
“Hello, yourself!” answered one of the tars, stepping towards the boys. “Who are you?”
“Passengers from the Golden Eagle,” answered Dave.
“Oh, some more of that crowd, eh?” cried the tar.
“Then you’ve seen the others,—the captain and a young fellow like ourselves?” queried Roger.
“Yes, they were here only a short while ago.”
“They said they’d be back, and take us aboard an’ git us something to eat,” put in a second of the sailors.
“An’ we need that grub putty bad, we do,” added a third.
“Ain’t had no decent meal since we got wrecked,” came from the fourth. “A few fish an’ birds, an’ that’s all.”
“You are from the Emma Brower?” questioned Dave, eagerly.
“You’ve struck it, messmate. She went down in the storm an’ we come putty nigh goin’ down with her.”
“Well, you shall have all you want to eat in a little while. Tell me where the others of our crowd went.”
“They went after the two chaps as ran away.”
“Ran away?” cried Dave. “From where?”
“From here.”
“They must have been Jasniff and Merwell!” murmured Roger.
“Who were those fellows?” asked our hero.
“Two passengers from the bark. They came ashore with us, and they stayed with us until your captain and the other young fellow come along. Then they up anchors and away like the old Nick was after ’em,” explained the tar who had first spoken.
“Were they young fellows like ourselves?”
“Yes,—a bit older, maybe. Named Ford and Smith.”
“They must have been Jasniff and Merwell,” said Dave, to his chum.
“I wonder if they managed to save the jewels,” whispered the senator’s son.
“Did they have any baggage?” asked Dave of the sailors.
“Baggage? Not much! We didn’t have no time for baggage when the ship went down. It was every man fer himself. The cap’n got off in one boat with some o’ the passengers, an’ the mate got off with some of the crew in another boat, an’ we got off by ourselves. It was blowin’ big guns, I can tell ye, an’ it looks like we would be swamped most every minit. I knowed about this island an’ I steered in this direction as well as I could, an’ by sheer good luck we struck the shore—an’ here we are.”
“What became of the other boats?”
“Ain’t seen nuthin’ of ’em yet.”
“Is that your boat was split in two, between the rocks in that direction?” and Dave pointed to where such a craft had been found by him and Roger.
“That’s her, messmate. Putty badly used up, eh?”
“And you are quite sure those two passengers had no baggage?” went on our hero, after a pause.
“Nary a thing, messmate, excepting wot they wore. It wasn’t no time to think o’ baggage, it was a time to think o’ what to do to save your life!”
CHAPTER XXII—THE HURRICANE
“What direction did those fellows who ran away take?” asked Dave.
“That’s the way they went,” answered one of the sailors, pointing to some heavy undergrowth behind the camping-out spot.
“Where does that lead to, do you know?” asked the senator’s son.
“Leads to a spring o’ fresh water an’ half a dozen big caves,” was the reply.
“Caves?” queried Dave. “Then perhaps the fellows, who ran away, took to one of the caves.”
“Like as not, messmate. Them two chaps have been explorin’ them caves ever since we came ashore.”
“Let us walk back and have a look,” suggested our hero. “We may be able to give Phil and Captain Sanders some assistance.”
Without further delay, the two boys left the camp of the castaways and hurried along a small trail through the bushes. They soon came to a rocky depression in the midst of which was a tiny spring.
“That water looks good,” exclaimed Dave. “Let us get a drink.”
“Perhaps it is poisonous, Dave.”
“If it was, I think those sailors would have warned us.”
They found the water fairly cold and of a good flavor, and each drank his fill. Then Dave flashed the electric light around. Ahead they made out a series of rocks, with here and there a gloomy opening, leading to unknown depths.
“This is Cave Island and no mistake,” was our hero’s comment. “The place seems to be fairly honeycombed.”
“Be careful that you don’t go into a hole and drop out of sight,” warned his chum.
They walked to the entrance of one of the caves and peered in. All was dark and silent. Then they went to the next cave. Here they caught a glimmer of light.
“Somebody is moving in here!” exclaimed Dave. “A man with a torch!”
They waited, and presently saw that two persons were approaching slowly, having to pick their way over the uneven rocks.
“They are the captain and Phil,” cried Roger, and set up a faint call.
“Hello! Who is that?” answered the captain of the Golden Eagle.
“Dave and Roger!” cried Phil. “Oh, say,” he added, eagerly, “we’ve seen Jasniff and Merwell!”
“So we suspected,” answered Dave. “But you didn’t catch them?”
“No, they got away from us,” returned Captain Sanders.
“In this cave?” queried Roger.
“Yes.”
“But if they are in here, we can get them sooner or later,” put in Dave.
“No, my lad. There are several openings to these caves. We found one at the far end, and I reckon those rascals got away through it.”
“Did you speak to them at all?” asked our hero.
“Didn’t get time,” answered Phil. “The minute they saw us they ran like frightened deer.”
“Did they have any baggage, Phil?”
“Not that I could see. I rather fancied Jasniff had a small bundle under his coat, but I may have been mistaken.”
“The sailors said they came ashore without baggage. Perhaps the jewels went down with the bark.”
“Oh, I think they’d make an effort to save such costly gems—anybody would.”
“Not if they were thoroughly scared,” broke in Captain Sanders. “A person who is thoroughly scared forgets everything but to save his life.”
“Then you haven’t any idea where they went to?”
“No, lad. But I don’t think they’ll get off this island in a hurry.”
There was nothing to do but to return to where the four sailors were encamped. Then the whole party proceeded to where Billy Dill and Smiley had been left.
“I don’t think it will be safe to try to get through those breakers in the darkness,” said Captain Sanders. “We may as well make ourselves comfortable until morning. We have plenty of grub on hand, so you fellows shall have your fill,” he went on, to the castaways.
The sailors were glad enough to build another campfire, close to the landing-place, and here they were served with all the food and drink they wanted, which put them in good humor. They related the particulars of how the Emma Brower had gone down, and of how one boat after another had put off in the storm. It had been a time of great excitement, such as none of them were liable to ever forget.
The boys were worn out from their exertions and willing enough to rest. They fixed up some beds of boughs and were soon in the land of dreams. The sailors rested also, each, however, taking an hour at watching, by orders of Captain Sanders.
It was about five o’clock in the morning when Dave awoke, to find the wind blowing furiously. Two of the sailors were busy stamping out the campfire, for the burning brands were flying in all directions, threatening to set fire to the undergrowth.
“What’s this?” he asked of Captain Sanders.
“No telling, lad,” was the grave reply. “Looks like a pretty big blow.”
“More like a hurricane!” snorted old Billy Dill. “The wind is growin’ wuss each minit!”
“Draw that boat up into the bushes and fasten it well,” ordered the captain. “We don’t want to have it stove in or floated off by the breakers.” And the rowboat was carried to a place of safety.
“Where is the ship?” asked Roger.
“Slipped away when the blow came up,” answered the captain. “An’ I hope the mate knows enough to keep away,” he added, gravely.
Soon it started to rain, first a few scattering drops and then a perfect deluge. The castaways spoke of a cave that was near by, and all hurried in that direction, taking the stores from the boat with them.
“How long will this last, do you think?” asked Phil, of the master of the Golden Eagle.
“No telling. Maybe only to-day, maybe several days.”
“If it last several days, we’ll have a time of it getting food,” broke in the senator’s son.
“We’ll watch out for fish and turtles,” said Billy Dill. “Nothin’ like turtles when you are good an’ hungry.”
“That’s true,” answered Dave. He had not forgotten the big turtle the old tar had managed to catch down on one of the islands in the South Seas.
Soon it was raining so hard that but little could be seen beyond the entrance to the cave. The wind moaned and shrieked throughout the cavern, which happened to have several entrances. Once it became so strong that it almost lifted the boys from their feet. The rain drove in at times, and they had to get into a split in the rocks to keep dry.
“Hark! what was that?” cried Roger, during a lull in the wind.
“I heard thunder; that’s all,” answered Phil.
“I think a tree must have been struck by lightning,” answered Captain Sanders. “The lightning is getting pretty fierce,” he added, as a brilliant illumination filled the cavern.
“Wonder where Jasniff and Merwell are?” whispered Phil, to his chums, “I’ll wager this storm scares ’em half to death.”
“Yes, and those four Englishmen,” added Dave. “Don’t forget that they were coming to this island.”
Slowly the hours of the morning dragged by. There was no let-up in the hurricane, for such it really proved to be. The wind blew strongly all the time, but occasionally would come a heavy blast that fairly made the island tremble. The lightning had died away somewhat, but now and then would come a great flash, followed by a crash and rumble that would echo and reëcho among the rocks.
“Just look at the ocean!” cried Dave, as he and his chums walked to one corner of the entrance to gaze out.
“The waves seem to be mountain-high,” returned Phil. “You wouldn’t think it possible a ship could live on such a sea.”
“Well, it is mighty dangerous, Phil; you know that as well as I do.”
“I hope the Golden Eagle weathers the storm.”
“We all hope that.”
Dinner was a rather scanty meal, cooked with great difficulty in a hollow of the rocks. The smoke from the fire rolled and swirled in all directions, nearly blinding everybody. But the repast was better than nothing, and nobody grumbled.
By nightfall the rain ceased. But the wind was almost as strong as ever, and when those in the cave ventured outside they had to be on guard, for fear a flying tree-branch would come down on their heads.
Captain Sanders was much worried over the safety of his vessel, but he did not let on to the boys, since it would have done no good. But the lads understood, and they, too, were more or less alarmed, remembering the fate that had overtaken the Emma Brower in a storm that had been no worse than the present one.
With so much rain driving in, the cave was a damp place, and the boys were glad enough to go outside. They looked for wood that might be easily dried, and after much difficulty, succeeded in starting up a new campfire, around which the whole crowd gathered.
“I’m goin’ to try my luck along shore,” said Billy Dill, and started off with Dave, Phil, and Roger, to see if any fish or turtles could be located. They found the shore strewn with wreckage.
“Oh, Billy, can this be from our ship?” exclaimed Phil, in alarm.
“I don’t think so, lad. Looks to me like it had been in the water some days. I reckon it’s from the Emma Brower, or some other craft.”
In the wreckage they found the remains of several boxes and barrels. But the contents had become water-soaked or had sunk to the bottom of the sea; so there was nothing in the shape of food for them. They also came across the mainmast of the bark, with some of the stays still dragging around it.
“That will do for a pole, in case we wish to hoist a flag,” suggested the senator’s son.
They found neither fish nor turtles, and at last had to return to the campfire disappointed. There was next to nothing to eat for supper.
“Well, better luck in the morning,” said Captain Sanders, with an air of cheerfulness he did not feel. “As soon as this wind dies down our ship will come back, and then we’ll have all we want to eat.”
It was a long, dreary night that followed, and the boys were glad to behold the sun come up brightly in the morning. Dave was the first up, but his chums quickly followed, and all went down to the beach, to look for fish and also to see if the Golden Eagle was anywhere in sight.
This time they had better luck, so far as food was concerned. In a hollow they found over a score of fish that had been cast from the ocean by the breakers, and they also found a fine turtle that was pinned down by a fallen tree.
“That’s a new way to catch a turtle,” remarked Dave. “It’s a regular trap.”
“Turtle soup, yum! yum!” murmured Phil.
“And broiled fish,—all you want, too!” added Roger, smacking his lips.
When they got back to the camp they found that the fire had been renewed, and soon the appetizing odor of broiling fish filled the air. Then Captain Sanders and one of the castaway sailors came in from a walk in another direction, carrying an airtight canister, which, on being opened, was found to contain fancy crackers.
“There is a good deal of wreckage down on the beach,” said the captain. “We’ll inspect it after breakfast.”
Having eaten their fill of the fish and the crackers, and leaving Billy Dill and some of the others busy making turtle soup, the boys and Captain Sanders took another walk along the beach, to look over the wreckage and also see if they could sight the Golden Eagle, or locate Jasniff or Merwell.
“I hope we can find those two fellows,” said Dave. “I can stand this suspense no longer. I must know what has become of those jewels!”
CHAPTER XXIII—A STRANGE DISCOVERY
A half-mile was covered when, on turning a point of rocks, the boys and the captain came to a sandy cove. Here was more of the wreckage, and the whole party ran down to the beach to investigate.
Boxes, barrels, and bits of timber were strewn from one end of the cove to the other, and in the mass were a number of things of more or less value—timber, food, and some clothing. There was also a trunk, but it was open and empty.
“Look!” cried Dave, suddenly, and pointed to a small, black leather case, that rested on some of the wreckage.
“What is it?” queried Phil and Roger, in a breath.
Dave did not reply, for he was crawling over the wreckage with care. Soon he reached the spot where the black leather case rested, caught on a nail, and he picked it up. The clasp was undone and the case fell open, revealing the interior, which was lined with white plush.
“Empty!” murmured Dave, sadly. “Empty!” There was a groan in his voice as he uttered the word.
“What is it, Dave?” asked the senator’s son, although he and Phil guessed the truth.
“It’s the Carwith jewel-case,” was the answer. “The very case that Mr. Carwith left with Mr. Wadsworth!”
“Are you certain?” demanded Phil.
“Yes, for here is the name, ‘Ridgewood Osgood Carwith,’ stamped in gold on the top.”
“And empty,” murmured the captain. “This looks bad,” and he shook his head, thoughtfully.
“Maybe Jasniff and Merwell took the jewels from the case,” suggested Roger, hopefully.
“It is possible, Roger. But—but—I am afraid the jewels are at the bottom of the ocean,” answered Dave, and his face showed how downcast he felt.
“They might have taken the jewels and divided them between themselves,” said Phil. “Maybe they put them in money-belts, or something like that. They might think that the sailors would rob them, if they saw the case.”
“It’s possible, Phil, and I hope you are right,” answered our hero. But in his heart he was still afraid that the gems had gone to the bottom of the Atlantic.
“I think we had better climb to the top of yonder rise and take a look around the island,” said the captain. “For all we know, the Golden Eagle may be on the other side. I sincerely hope she has weathered the storm.”
Placing the jewel-case in a safe place between the rocks, the party commenced to climb the rise of ground the captain had pointed out. This was no easy task, since the rocks were rough and there were many openings, leading to the caves below.
“We don’t want another tumble,” remarked Roger to Dave.
“Hardly, Roger; once was enough.”
The sun had come out strongly, consequently the water was drying away rapidly. It was very warm, and the boys were glad that they had donned thin clothing on leaving the ship.
At last they reached the top of the rise and from that elevation were able to see all but the southern end of Cave Island, which was hidden by a growth of palms.
Not a ship of any kind was in sight, much to the captain’s disappointment.
“Must have had to sail away a good many miles,” said Dave.
“Either that, lad, or else the storm caused more or less trouble.”
From the elevation, all took a good look at every part of the island that could be seen. They saw several other rocky elevations and the entrances to caves innumerable.
“Tell you one thing,” remarked Phil. “If there was any truth in that story of a pirates’ treasure, the pirates would have plenty of places where to hide the hoard.”
“Humph! I don’t believe in the treasure and never will,” returned Roger. “If the treasure was ever here, you can make up your mind that somebody got hold of it long before this.”
“If those Englishmen came here, it is queer that we don’t see some trace of them,” said Captain Sanders.
“Maybe they are like Jasniff and Merwell, keeping out of sight,” ventured Dave.
“That may be true.”
“I think I see some figures moving down near the shore over there,” continued Roger, after another look around. “But they are so far off I am not sure. They may be animals.”
“They look like two men to me,” exclaimed Dave, after a long look. “What if they should be Jasniff and Merwell! Oh, let us walk there and make sure!”
“That’s a good, stiff walk,” answered Captain Sanders. “We can’t go from here very well—unless we want to climb over some rough rocks. It would be better to go down and follow the shore.”
“Then let us do that. It won’t do us any good to go back to where we left the others, now the ship isn’t in sight.”
But the captain demurred, and finally it was agreed to return to camp and start out for the other side of the island directly after dinner.
“Turtle soup for all hands!” announced Billy Dill, proudly. “Best ever made, too.”
“It certainly smells good,” answered Dave.
The turtle soup proved both palatable and nourishing, and, eaten with crackers, made a good meal.
“We’ll take some crackers and fish along,” said the captain, to the boys, when they were preparing to leave the camp again. “For there is no telling how soon we’ll get back. It may take us longer than we think to reach the other side of this island.”
“I’ve got a knapsack,” said one of the castaway sailors. “You can take that along, filled,” and so it was arranged. Dave carried his gun and the captain had a pistol.
“If there is any game, we’ll have a try for it,” said Dave. “Even a few plump birds would make fine eating.”
“Yes, or a rabbit or hare,” added Roger.
The party walked along the shore as far as they could go and then, coming to what appeared to be an old trail, took to that.
“What do you make of this path?” said Dave. “I had an idea the island was uninhabited.”
“It is supposed to be,” answered Captain Sanders. “But there is no reason why somebody shouldn’t live here.”
Presently they came to a fine spring of water. Near by lay an old rusty cup, and a little further on a broken bucket.
“Somebody has been here and that recently,” was Dave’s comment. “I hope we are on the trail of Merwell and Jasniff.”
They walked on a little further and then, of a sudden, Captain Sanders halted the boys and pointed up into one of the trees.
“Wild pigeons!” exclaimed Dave. “And hundreds of them! Shall I give them a couple of barrels, captain?”
“Might as well, lad. Wild pigeons are good eating, especially when you are hungry. Get as many of ’em as you can.”
Dave approached a little closer and took aim with care. Bang! went the shotgun, and a wild fluttering and flying followed. Bang! went the second barrel of the weapon, and then, as the smoke cleared away, the boys and the captain saw seven of the pigeons come down to the ground. Several others fluttered around and Phil caught one and wrung its neck, and Roger laid another low with a stick he had picked up.
“Fine shots, both of them,” declared Captain Sanders. “Now load up again, Dave, so as to be ready for anything else that shows up.”
“I am afraid I have scared the rest of the game,” declared our hero, and so it proved, for after that they saw nothing but some small birds.
They passed through a thick woods and then came rather unexpectedly to a wall of rocks, all of a hundred feet in height. At the base of the wall was an opening leading into a broad cave. Near the entrance was the remains of a campfire.
“Somebody has been here and that recently!” cried Phil, as he examined the embers.
“Must be Merwell and Jasniff!” cried Dave. “For if they were strangers they would come out and see what the shooting meant.”
“Shall we go into the cave, or continue on the way to the shore?” questioned the senator’s son.
“Oh, let us take a peep into the cave first,” cried Phil. “It looks as if it was inhabited.”
The others were willing, and lighting a firebrand that was handy, they entered the cavern. In front they found the opening to be broad and low, but in the rear the ceiling was much higher and there were several passageways leading in as many different directions.
“What an island!” murmured Roger. “Why, one could spend a year in visiting all the caves!”
“It’s like a great, big sponge!” returned Phil. “Holes everywhere!”
“Take care that you don’t slip down into some opening!” warned Captain Sanders.
In one of the passages they came across the remains of a meal and also some empty bottles. Then Dave saw some bits of paper strewn over the rocky floor.
“What are they, Phil?” he asked, and then both commenced to pick the pieces up. Roger helped, while the captain held the firebrand.
“Well, of all things!” cried the shipowner’s son. “Now what do you make of this?”
“The chart!” cried Dave.
“Yes!”
“What chart?” queried the master of the Golden Eagle.
“The treasure chart those four Englishmen had,” answered Dave. “Now what made them come here with it and tear it to pieces?”
“Hum!” mused the captain. “One of two things would make ’em do that, lad. Either they got the treasure and had no further use for the map, or else they found the whole thing was a fake and in their rage they tore the map to shreds.”
“They must have gotten the gold!” murmured Roger and Phil.
“No, I think they got fooled,” said Dave.
“The question is, if those Britishers were here, where did they go to?” asked the captain.
“Let us call,” suggested Dave. “They may be in some part of this cave where they couldn’t hear the shots from my gun.”
All called out several times, and listened intently for a reply.
“Hark! I hear something!” cried Roger. “Listen!”
They strained their ears, and from what appeared to be a great distance they heard a human voice. But what was said they could not make out.
“Too many echoes here,” declared the captain. “A fellow can’t tell where the cry comes from.”
“Well, let us investigate,” said our hero.
They moved forward and backward, up one passageway and down another, calling and listening. At times the voice seemed to be quite close, then it sounded further off than ever.
“This sure is a mystery!” declared Phil. “What do you make of it, Dave?”
“I am beginning to think the call came from somewhere overhead,” answered our hero. “Captain, see if you can flash a light on those rocks to the left of our heads.”
Captain Sanders did as requested, and presently all in the party saw another passageway, leading up from a series of rocks that formed something of a natural stairway. Up this they went, Dave leading the van. Then they came to a small opening between two rocks.
“Help! help!” came in a half-smothered voice. “Help, please. Don’t leave me here in the dark any longer!”